


Car Spar

by merry_amelie



Series: Galactic Actors [2]
Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: Alternate Universe, Humor, M/M, Parody, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-08-21
Updated: 2001-08-21
Packaged: 2018-04-12 01:16:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4459688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merry_amelie/pseuds/merry_amelie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The boys go car shopping.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Car Spar

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback: Is treasured at merryamelie@aol.com (or leave a comment).
> 
> Disclaimer: Mr. Lucas owns everything Star Wars. I'm not making any money.
> 
> Many thanks to Mrs. Hamill for originating Will and Ian, and to Emrin for continuing their adventures, and to Vermilion Flame for her wonderful Tiercel.
> 
> Other stories in the Heroes of the Galaxy universe:  
> [Riding the Wheel of If: Episode Sixteen](http://hawksong.com/~momskitchen/Wheel_stories/WoI_16.htm) by MrsHamill  
> [Heroes of the Galaxy](http://www.trinityslash.com/emrin_annie/Heroes_Galaxy.html) by Emrin Alexander

Will Leeson and Ian McLawson hummed along a Coruscant skyway in Will's white Volvaran Urban.

"I want to buy _our_ car, Will. Let's trade this in for a Porcini. Can't you just see us flying along in a sleek red skyrunner?"

Ian's enthusiasm was almost enough to convince Will, but he liked the comfort and safety of the Volvaran.

At that moment, an elderly lady in a blue skimmer passed them as if they were standing still. They heard her voice on the breeze. "Hey, Qui and Obi, where's your speeder, boys?"

Will immediately wondered if Ian had paid her off, but put that unworthy thought aside. "Uh, oh," he thought, "Here it comes."

Will was right. Ian was unable to resist the advantage the lady had given him in their discussion. "Did you see that, Will? That woman must have been 85 in a leap year, and she dusted us. It's downright _humiliating_."

Ian's plaintive tone of voice forced Will to below-the-belt tactics. He put his hand on Ian's thigh, and said, "Bench seat, Ian. I couldn't even reach you in those Porcini buckets."

At Will's touch, Ian's eyes had closed, a blissful expression on his face. Will knew he had scored, and more importantly, would score again later. His triumph was short-lived, however, as he ran a red, too absorbed in the perfect fit of Ian's jeans to pay attention to trivial things, like signals.

"Will, watch out!" A near miss and two indrawn breaths. "Maybe bucket seats are better after all, eh?" He gently pried Will's hand from his leg. "If you can't get to me, you might actually pay attention to the traffic."

Will chuckled. "Before I knew you loved me, I used to daydream and drive at the same time. Believe me, that was just as dangerous."

Ian smiled at him in delight. "Mooning over me, were you?"

"Always. It's a wonder I could say my lines at work. I had so many better ones in my head." Keeping his eyes on the skyway this time, he reached for Ian's hand. "Let's go shopping, love."

Lanes widened, traffic thinned out, they saw the signs of stores that had rejected them for plastichits before they'd landed the series: Will and Ian knew they were getting close. At last, the Porcini Emporium.

Customers in denim, sales staff in suits, blue and green drinks blinkingly dispensed by servodroids: shopping heaven. When Will had bought his used Volvaran, he'd signed the papers in a blue and green office and gotten water from a cooler in a V-shaped cup that had immediately decided to take a leak all over him.

An unctuous salesman, who introduced himself as Rory Pulp, steered them away from the red lowslung Porcini that Ian had been alternately drooling on and ogling, and towards a black model with wicked-looking fins that he claimed was a prototype for next year's design. Another droid was discreetly dispatched to clean up after Ian, buffing the cherry durasteel to a mirror gloss when Ian turned away.

Will and Ian politely listened to Pulp's spiel, then returned to Ian's first love, the two door turbo Tiercel. Pulp yielded to the inevitable, and gracefully ushered them into his office to dicker.

"Fifty thousand Republic credits, tax not included." Engine oil could not have made Pulp's smile any greasier.

Wiping his hands on his jeans, Will said, "Thirty five thousand and no dealer prep charges." His years of playing a Jedi diplomat served him well. He smiled, and pulled out his chiticard, as if the price had already been agreed upon.

Pulp's smile was now even less sincere, but he sighed dramatically, and accepted Will's card. "Done." He brightened a little when he remembered their Volvaran trade-in. "Five thousand for the Urban."

Ian could not let this insult to Will's beloved car pass. "It's only got fifteen thousand kilometers on it, and it's never been out of Coruscant." Ian unconsciously crowded Pulp until his hair made a damp spot on the wallplast. "Ten thousand or no deal."

Pulp was used to fleecing executives and their wives, not two smiling actors with the charm cranked up. Besides, he was still making a fifty percent profit on the deal. "Very well, gentlemen. I agree to your terms."

Standing outside their new car, Will chivalrously tossed Ian the keycard. The light in Ian's eyes could have powered them home. Ian's hands were magnetically drawn to the wheel, in much the same way that they were drawn to Will. "Ah, Will, it runs like a dream. Thank you."

"You're welcome," he said, relaxing into his bucket seat, and enjoying the new skyrunner smell that they'd probably paid a few extra credits for. It actually blended quite nicely with Ian's aftershave.

Ian sped along on the outer edge of the speed limit. "Will, I've been thinking. You gave up the Urban to get our Tiercel. There's really no reason to keep the speeder now."

"Typical Ian," Will thought with boundless love. "My considerate lad." Aloud, he said, "I'd like to keep it, love. It's a great excuse to hug you in public."

In a statistically laughable, randomly unpredictable turn of events, as Ian braked at a light, they heard an all-too-familiar voice quavering on the turbulent air.

"Hey, boys, whadya do with the Vanillaran? Did it conk on you?" Somehow, the little old lady managed to sound friendly, despite her words.

"Nah," Ian shouted back over the thrum of the engine. "It'll run another decade, easy." He saw Will's proud smile at the corner of his eye. "We just wanted something new, that's all."

She laughed hoarsely. "I've got a couple of gorgeous granddaughters back home..." Winking broadly, she flew off, her next words inaudible except to a few eagles in the area.

"Should we be glad we missed that?" Will quirked a quizzical brow at Ian.

"We should be glad we have fans who recognize us at all. Rebecca told me that two months after Serge fired her, her own puppy couldn't pick her out of a crowd, even when she fed him Tisky treats."

"And that was our sponsor," Will said, not missing a beat.

Ian pulled in at the bank to check their now precarious balance, and surprised Will by throwing him the keycard when they returned to the Tiercel. " _Our_ car," Ian said simply.

Since he'd thought Ian would send him to racing classes before his bootheel met the accelerator, Will slid in gratefully. He took it to the limit, but not beyond, and kept his eyes on the skyway and hands to himself. When Ian started to hum contentedly, Will loosened up and enjoyed the ride.

They changed over once more before arriving home, when Ian wanted to try the air car out on Fellini Freeway. Will relished the grin on Ian's face as his aerial maneuvers grew in complexity.

Ian deftly slid the runner in just beside his speeder in their garage. Safely parked, he grabbed Will to see how they'd fit together in their new car. Just as Will had warned him, the bucket seats were obstructive, but they did manage a congratulatory kiss before they had to untangle due to numbness in various extremities. At least they had the bike, upon which they could take turns wrapped around each other in most satisfying configurations, even if they never quite made it out of the garage.

When they got inside, Will noted with amusement that Ian did not put the keycard in its usual place on the kitchen counter. He kept it in his left shirt pocket with the lucky pet stone Will had given him for his birthday.

Will walked over and kissed Ian, as he ran cool hands over his back. "Hmmm. This is much better than the circus act in the car."

Eyes flashing in intentional misunderstanding, Ian huffed, "You'd better not be referring to my driving."

Will started to laugh. "No, although I am glad you took that stunt piloting class last year."

"So is Lucasta. She doesn't have to pay for a double any more."

"Now I know why Qui-Gon gets rescued by Obi-Wan all the time. I thought it was a little odd: the strapping Jedi Master saved by his own apprentice every other week."

Ian kissed him. "I asked you to take the course with me, Will, but you didn't want to put Roy Roberts out of work." He tasted the sweaty skin in back of Will's ear. "So you wanna rescue me, do you?"

Will hugged him tighter. "You need saving?"

Ian chuckled into his collar, and Will felt the warm air tease the fine hairs on his neck. "At least once a night."

"I think I can arrange that, my love." Will kissed Ian deeply, and led him back to the garage.


End file.
